Protecting the Asset
by cb mcwhorter
Summary: On Christmas Eve during the Triwizard Tournament, Tonks gives Severus an unusual gift.


PROTECTING THE ASSET

Never would he admit it, but he was glad that the Headmaster had pressed him to come to Grimmauld Place on Christmas Eve. Granted, Black was in residence, and Albus had made him promise to abstain from baiting him. He'd finally acquiesced when Dumbledore revealed that he'd demanded the same promise from Black. The fugitive looked considerably better than he had six months ago. Severus knew how well he himself had tolerated a matter of weeks in Azkaban. He couldn't imagine surviving more than a decade.

Overall, the evening had been, dare he think it, nice. No noisy children or rowdy teenagers, from any school at all. There were opportunities for adult conversation that had no reason to slip into quarrels over House point deductions. He'd had an in-depth discussion with Kingsley about Muggle politics. And there was an acceptable talk with Diggory about Quidditch; Amos was just as mad for it as his son, but much better-versed in the history of the game. Then he and Molly Weasley had gotten engrossed in Potions, and she had some interesting ideas for a Silver Plate Restorative Solution he'd been tinkering with. He often wondered what kind of a Potions Mistress she'd have made if she hadn't gone into Child Production instead. Madame Maxime had made a brief appearance and returned to her charges. Karkaroff wasn't as conscientious, and seemed settled in with a bottle of red wine.

Severus had had a few glasses of that wine himself, a complex Hungarian vintage so dark it was nearly black. It was romantically named Bull's Blood and while he usually preferred French reds, this one suited his mood tonight. He contemplated another glass, but decided that he was rather perfectly tipsy as he was: feeling serene and yet able to get home when he needed to.

He was content to concentrate on the strawberry tart on his plate. Molly had made a point of hiding a slice away for him. Normally, he'd sneer at her for mothering him, and she'd laugh at him, but tonight, the delight of strawberries in December was enough that he bowed and thanked her before taking himself off to the loveseat by the fire to eat it slowly and observe the other partiers.

Arthur and Shackelbolt were laughing by the window with Black and Ted Tonks. Minerva and Pomona were entertaining Hestia Jones with stories about the students from the visiting schools. He thought of eavesdropping a bit, but they likely were stories he already knew, and he was happy enough to be away from the brats that he didn't want to rehash their antics. He could sometimes hear laughter from the kitchen where Molly had been joined by Andromeda Tonks and Emmeline Vance. Others wandered in and out of the lounge. And Nymphadora Tonks was apparently staring at him.

Wait. What?

The Auror was indeed crossing to room to him, her hair turning into waves of green and white. He was briefly tempted to snark that she wasn't able to make her hair turn silver, but decided he was too mellow.

"Happy Christmas, Severus," she said as she dropped onto the loveseat next to him, uninvited.

"Nymphadora."

"Tart's lovely, isn't it? I was lucky enough to get the last of the Sacher torte."

He rarely indulged his sweet tooth, except on Christmas. He had had a sliver of the Sacher torte. It was heavenly. Shame it was gone.

"I have a prezzie for you" she said, bouncing a little. She handed him a fat red envelope.

"What are you on about?" he said suspiciously. She prodded his hand with the thing and he found himself taking it.

"Just open it", she said. "You can even cast revealing spells on it if you want."

He almost did. But, deciding that there was little she could do he couldn't counter, he slit open the envelope and pulled out a garish card. He took a moment to sneer at her before he flipped open the card to find a Ministry license certificate made out to Severus Snape…

"For generation of portkeys at his discretion, unlimited."

For once, he was truly speechless. Underneath the license was a pamphlet: "Manual for Portkey Generation".

He turned to her. "How did you get this?"

"I asked nicely."

"Whom?"

"Kingsley, of course."

"Is this a matter of public record?"

"Of course not."

He opened the little pamphlet to a random page.

'…the _Life Preservation Portkey responds to any pulse point, but it's wiser to fix it to the torso, at the solar plexus, for instance, than to the wrist, since in the event of limb amputation, the portkey will Transport the severed limb and not the rest of the body…' _Gruesome, that. But useful beyond words. Only once had Albus provided him with a portkey. The rest of the time, he'd been on his own to arrange escape. Not that he'd needed much help after the Dark Lord's fall, but there were times he'd wondered if he'd get away in one piece from visiting a McNair estate or even Malfoy Manor.

Furthermore, as the wretched Mark on his arm steadily darkened, he'd wondered how he would be able to do whatever Albus expected from him and keep his head on his shoulders. This was priceless. What on earth possessed her to do this?

"Why?" he asked her, a little more roughly than he'd intended.

Her hair was auburn, now. It hurt to look at it. But her face was downright serious. "You're important to us, Severus. No, don't look at me like that, this isn't sentiment. It won't be long before he's back, and we'll need to know what's going on. I'm certain that some of that information will come from you. We need you capable and safe."

"We've always known that this will be dangerous…"

She shook her head. "Not good enough. The Undercover Asset is a department's most valuable investment and must be protected as such…"

"Asset?"

"The old term is spy. And if he's an Information Asset, it's paramount that he be kept safe in the field. If you're discovered and killed, we lose not only you, but whatever you've learned, and perhaps more lives after yours. It isn't sentiment. It's good management."

"And how do you know this?"

"It isn't common knowledge, but I did two years with Muggle Law Enforcement."

"Really?"

"And training included classes about undercover work. They came with things like this." She handed him a spiral-bound book.

"'Handbook for Covert Operations'. There's textbook for this?" He couldn't hide his astonishment.

Her smile was a little wistful. "You know, the Old Man is brilliant. And creative. And he's probably forgotten over his lifespan more than I'll ever learn in mine, but he doesn't know everything. And apparently, it didn't dawn on him to wonder if someone's already invented this particular wheel."

Or if it had, he didn't see the need to share the knowledge with his Asset.

"Auror Tonks, I could kiss you."

"Ooh, wouldn't that cause a scene!"

"Quite."

"Maybe some other time."

"I think so. Lupin's already glared over here three times."

"No. You're having me on."

"Trust my powers of observation. So, I won't kiss you. I don't have a portkey made yet."

She laughed in delight.

"Truly, Tonks. Thank you."

"Truly, Severus. You're welcome." She looked from her empty mug to the sideboard where Lupin was standing, resolutely facing away from them. "I'm for more wassail. You?"

He curled his lip. "Ugh."

"Firewhiskey, then?"

"Thank you, but I think I've had just the right amount tonight."

"Happy Christmas, then."

"Happy Christmas."

She bounced up from the loveseat, her hair a Medusa of flaming yellow curls, and re-crossed the room, hips swaying. It seemed Lupin was in for it.

Severus looked down at his new treasures and flipped through the Handbook, finding a chapter entitled "Asset Protection". He wasn't going to be a scorned spy, a deceiver to be spat upon. He was a Protected Asset. They were only words, but he was heartened by them. He put the card and the book together and shrunk them to fit in his inside pocket.

This called for celebration. He spied a last lonely slice of Black Forest cake on the table, and he went over to get it.

He now had plans for his return to his quarters at Hogwarts. He expected he'd stay up late tonight, playing with portkeys of all varieties, first and foremost with the Life Preservation version. And tomorrow, he'd spend the day reading his new textbook. He might even make a copy for Albus. It wasn't as if he knew he was Albus' only Asset. He liked the word the more he thought about it.

Asset. He was an Asset, and he would be valuable. Tomorrow, his gloomy nature would find all the ways he should know that this was wrong, but for tonight, he was a potential Most Valuable Investment. And maybe, just maybe, he'd find a way to survive whatever was coming.


End file.
